Chapter 15
Flight!
Not for the first time that year did Dana Lee find herself
in fleeing, packed away at Adam Pang’s Sentosa Cove hideaway. It struck Dana,
even in her misery, that the vacant villa had the vibe of a high security
prison. On one side was the South China Sea, now grey-green now white-blue,
ceaselessly ebbing and flooding; on the other, was a glade of trees, in a dark
tropical tangle, full of the sound of unseen birds and insects and things crashing through the leaves at night; a curving drive led from the tall security gates to
the main door with its digital lock. “I could be the mistress of all this, and
leave the fashion and publishing world behind...,” thought Dana, as she
walked along the edge of the garden by the water, at sunset. In the distance, peacocks screamed. “Will I miss it? The artificial glitter of it all? The
competition every which way I turn, the uncertainty, the stress? Probably not. If
I had the time on my hands, I would really be able to spend all my time gardening, which I
truly love, and reading all the books I’ve been wanting to read. Marriage will
be like house arrest, but it would also mean a certain kind of freedom – and
Adam, dear loyal Adam, he will be my warden…”
All this might have been and the story must end here, except, of course, that Eli Kee was someone that Dana Lee had belatedly discovered she loved. The very peacocks seemed to be screaming her emotions out to the universe, and Dana had finally to admit to the powerful
emotion. Her immense pain at the thought that Eli was claimed by someone else
brought her feelings clearly before her, the intensity of which had never
occurred to her before, not in the giddy, romantic phase of their flirtation. But
was Eli Kee a figment of her imagination? Was he even the person that Dana loved, because so much was yet hidden and unexplained in his behaviour? That
Eli Kee could have concealed from her all the details of his relationship to
Bella Teo seemed incongruent with his profession of openness and warmth. And that
he was in fact an heir to a sugar and tinned fruit fortune, and wasn’t the
starving artist-prince of the ragged jeans and soulful songs, was a big shock
to Dana. “He’s a completely different man from the sweet boy who picks me up
in the broken down panel van. No wonder there was always an air of the kid in
him; he’s born to privilege after all, wrapped securely in the bubble wrap of
wealth,” reflected poor, heartbroken Dana Lee. "And I can't call him a sweet boy any more - it would sound like the most dreadful pun!"
“How could I have been so foolish, mother?” wailed Dana over the phone. The dismal thought instantly occurred to her: "It's inherited."
“You were always a dreamy, romantic thing, not,
unlike me, always the best judge of character,” replied Mrs Tina Lee, from her chintz
sofa. “Stay in bed, my dear, and turn on the security alarm. It must be terrible
for you to hear this matter talked about; and as for myself, I won’t mention a
word about it to anyone. I did not mention a thing all dinner last night. Except to Uncle John,
and his two banking daughters. But they are all very thoughtful, discreet and considerate;
especially since I gave them a hint, as to who Eli is! They had such a jolly time of it and all through coffee, you know, nudged and poked about how sweet the cakes were and was it tinned fruit they saw on the custard? Uncle John was quite beside himself with the jollity of the brown sugar cubes and said he never tasted such sweet coffee as in our house! But they were most discreet and never mentioned the Kee word! I do think the less said
about such things, the better, the sooner blown over and forgot. And what does
talking ever do, you know?”
“Mother you didn’t say anything to Uncle John and his two banking daughters! How could you, mother?” cried Dana.
But Mrs Tina Lee could, and did.
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